


Firebug

by CavannaRose



Series: Rose Wilson Fics [20]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Terror Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Descriptions of catastrophic burns, Gen, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Mentions of Garfield Lynns, Mentions of Slade, Minor Original Character(s), burn victim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: An encounter with Garfield Lynns leaves Rose in dire straights.





	1. Chapter 1

With a muffled whimper Rose stumbled into the apartment, not even pausing to lock the door as she kicked it shut. The motherfucker had set her on goddamned fire! Garfield Lynns brought a whole new depth to the term firebug, and if she ever got another crack at him she was going to put her blade through the psychopath’s face. No more of this pansy trying to talk. Fire bad. She’d rather take a fucking bullet.

Pain shot through her arm, dragging her mind from the violent musings and back to the world of hurt she was trying to avoid acknowledging. She had to get everything off, but fuck she didn’t want to. If she couldn’t see it… it wasn’t real. Denying it wasn’t helping, and panic clawed at her throat, paralyzing her for a moment as she relived those horrific seconds. The heat, the feel of the metal scales from her armor starting to melt and weld together, to burn holes in her skin as Firefly’s torches came around way faster than she had anticipated.

Rose dropped to her knees, biting her bottom lip to the point it bled in her attempts to stop the whimper that was trying to escape from her. She would not lose it now. She was tough. She was in control, and she would survive this with her dignity intact god fucking damnit. With slow, deliberate movements, she began to peel the half-melted scales from her abused flesh.

Agony made the world turn white for a second.

The searing heat brought Rose back to consciousness, but stole her wits with it’s intensity. What had… She tried to push herself up onto her knees, but the pulling on already damaged skin almost had her back on the ground, and a small whine of misery finally escaped her gritted teeth. She had fucking fainted. Weak. First she had let that prancing idiot get the drop on her, and now she wasn't even capable of undressing her own damn self without being laid out. So much for the Wilson legacy.

Unsure if she had been unconscious for a minute or a day, she eased back onto her ass, more carefully this time, favouring her injured side, despite the self-loathing the action shot through her. Finally, she was settled, and she moved once more to begin the slow work of wiggling half-melted metal scales out of their blistered fleshy victim that she had once called her shoulder. The pain was indescribable, beyond anything she had experienced, even after all her years involved in the violent life of mercenaries and criminals. Nothing her father had ever put her through had felt this horrid. None of his tests or lessons had even come close. The fucker had set her on FIRE.

After what seemed like hours, but was likely only a few minutes, Rose had her shoulder freed, and the remains of her armor pooled around the floor at her waist as she took in the damage. Like a caricature of a photo negative, the scales were detailed in moist red and yellow blisters and welts from the middle of her forearm and up past her elbow as well as part of the way down her ribs. Some of the burn wounds wept a reddish pus that may have been blood. Eye following the line of ruined flesh to the tricep she had used to shield her face, Rose went pale. The skin there was black and cracked… parts of it even looked white? Maybe that was bone.

Fucking fuckity fuck. She was overcooked meat.

Gritting her teeth she dragged her wastebin from beside the desk, closer to where she was sitting and rummaged around for the bottle of vodka she had bought in a moment of weakness, and then tossed when she had decided to stick to her guns on the no getting drunk rule. Well, that was going to shit. Removing the cap with her teeth she spat it across the room and then took a healthy swig of the cheap liquor, wincing as the burn made her gorge rise, and her breath speed up in a panic response. Not good, she couldn’t afford a trigger as easy to manipulate as burning flesh, not with what she had to go up against.

Bracing her knees against the floor, she leaned forward and upended the bottle over the grotesque ruin that had once been her skin, swallowing the scream that threatened to prove to the world how undone she was becoming. Third degree burns was her best guess, and a fair bit of her skin was still lining her armor. She needed a hospital, but there was no way she could risk it. She wasn’t sure where she was still wanted, and where her father might be running reporting searches. Taking a chance that her father would find her like that was straight up suicide as far as she was concerned. Worse, she had isolated herself so completely she had no one to call for help, no where to turn.

Rose was completely alone, and if she didn’t do something, she might never use the fucking arm again. If she couldn’t get this fixed… Her brain flat out refused to consider the implication that such an outcome might have on her life. Civilians with missing limbs had a hard time, what chance would a mercenary on the run have? Curling up on the floor on her good side, she drained the last dregs of the vodka bottle and gave in to the slow trickle of tears running from her one good eye.

Just… fuck.

Consciousness was quickly escaping her, but as the room became black around her, she had a thought that almost made her smile. If she lost the arm, Slade wouldn’t want her anymore. She would be completely useless to him and all his grandiose schemes. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the booze, but as everything disappeared, she let out a slightly hysterical laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was scorching fire, and heat, and bone-shattering pain. It felt like she waded through an abyssal lake, flesh audibly peeling and cracking as she attempted to pull herself free, but it was all fuzzy around the edges, and the way out was unclear. With effort, Rose managed to shake the horror and terror enough to realize she was dreaming… unconscious. She fought to awaken, but her body resisted, reluctant to face the reality of her injuries once more. Not yet wakening, a whimper squeaked between lips pressed together so hard they had lost all colour. If she knew how weak she sounded, she would have been disgusted.  
  
She wanted… she didn’t know what she wanted, but even in her rejection of consciousness she reached out, hand curling. If she had just taken the adrenaline, Lynns wouldn’t have gotten the drop on her, if she took it now, she could gather the strength to get up, to find… who? She recoiled, body curling in, and then letting out a low moan of discomfort as the remains of her skin tugged and the scales of her armor, only wrapped around her bottom half, scraped across the floor of the apartment. Rose longed to reach out to someone for help, for comfort, but she didn’t know how. Tears formed in her eye, tracking across her soot-smudged face. She should have asked… one more time…   
  
A dull thudding sound slashed through her half-formed thoughts, brushing aside the insecurity, the strange desires that her brain wasn’t sure how to process. She tried to claw her way out of the miasma her injuries had tossed her into, but every turn found herself facing down more flames, more pain, more fear. More pain. With a loud whimper she flinched as something seared her flesh anew, shocking her almost enough to break the healing barrier her mind had placed between her brain and her body, but still not quite enough. She didn’t want to come back, couldn’t see the point. After all, what did she have to live for? A life on the run? Violence? Normalcy? She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore, oblivion was preferable.  
  
Better nothingness than half a life. It would be so much easier to just slip away, she had decided, pulling further inside of herself, away from the heat of her melted skin and muscle. Rose was ready to let go, when a voice made it through the haze, tugging at that small corner of her heart that she kept most hidden. Her secret, one of her greatest weaknesses. "Rose? Rose, I need you to wake up now..."  
  
With more effort than she wanted to exert, she slowly peeled her eye open, ruthlessly crushing the painful sounds that were trying to crawl up her throat and escape. She had already allowed some of them out, she wouldn’t permit further insubordination on the part of her vocal chords. For a moment, all she saw was red and she pulled away, fear flashing across her features, brain certain that she was facing the flames once more. "We have places to go... people to see..."

The cautious tone, the slight hesitation, it wound its way through her, nestling into that small pocket within her she saved for this one, silly, boy. Her eye narrowed, focusing, locking onto his features like a falcon sighting prey. For a moment she just drank him in, letting her lip curl against the bruised flesh of her cheek. She knew he was smart, she just hadn’t known if he would want to… She brushed the thought aside. He hadn’t rejected the incredibly subtle offer she had placed, had jumped through all the hoops… had arrived just in time. Like always.  
  
He was now and forever, her – “Hero…” Her voice came out a strained croak as she reached her unblemished hand towards the only person she had ever considered truly worthy of the word. It was his fundamental nature, the light and goodness within him that her own dark centre constantly reached for. He was the only person she would have allowed to help her, no matter how fucked up she was. The only one she knew wouldn’t take advantage of her weakness for some purpose or another.  
  
“Need…” she frowned, stomping on the next set of words. The pain was making her stupider than usual. Searching her brain, she tried to think. She could only half remember where she even was. South somewhere. Tennessee? Had to take stock of her resources, who could be trusted not to sell her out to Slade, who valued money more than they feared death. “N – no hospi-... Sawbones… Grand Ave an’ West 42nd… does…” she winced, curling up for a second as the searing heat of her own skin overwhelmed her for a moment. She didn’t cry out, though. Not this time. “… back-alley …-tions, half-… surgeon. He…”  
  
Again the pain swept through her, the divots from the scale mail along her arms weeping more of the translucent pinkish liquid, along with a thicker yellow substance. Not great. “Owes … favor… won’t…” She struggled, fighting as her body tried to send her back under, tried to drive her back into the safe cocoon of unconsciousness.

Every city had a bad side, some worse than others. Some were more… depressing than crime laden. When Rose had first passed through this way, a few years before, it had been a cold, hard place. Almost barren, despite being so near to the city’s centre. She didn’t want to take Eddie somewhere so horrible, but the pain from her burns made the fear of discovery something bigger inside her, almost overwhelming in the palpable terror it caused her. She was weak enough from her wounds that he could deny her pleading and take her damn near anywhere, but her faith in him was a steady drum beat in her chest. Her trust in him for this, at least, unwavering. Still, she heard the muffled sound he made in protest, and it tore through her. She was hurting him. Always hurting him. Why did he keep returning to her? All she ever seemed to do was cause him pain.  
  
"Alright, Rose... alright." His sad acquiescence was like a balm on her frayed nerves, and when his strong arms wrapped around her, so cautious of the damage her skin had already taken, she had to stop herself from crying like some silly female. He treated her like she was something breakable, something precious. Only Joey had ever come close. To be fair, though, no one else would have been permitted to act like she was so fragile, no one else would have been allowed to see her so weak.  
  
She flinched as he touched her, the once-comforting heat that he gave off almost pitching her into a full panic. She did her best to breath through it, closing her eye so she couldn’t see how he reacted to the fear sweeping across his features. She couldn’t bear to react to her best friend that way. To counteract her initial response, she curled into his chest, pressing closer to him, making it easier for his strong arms to wrap around places that weren’t quite so damaged as the oozing flesh on her arm and side.  
  
"This is going to hurt... but I need you to be strong, alright? It's going to take a few jumps."

“Can’t… hurt. Tough…” She wanted to give him words of comfort, but everything was a struggle. She couldn’t comprehend how injuring her arm could make even speaking a pain, but then again, the burns up the side of her rib cage weren’t exactly a laughing matter. She placed her forehead against his chest, inhaling the scent of him. Sulfur and sweat and spice. Comfort. Home. That was what those smells were to her. The jumps it took to get the pair of them across the city were unpleasant, and it took effort not to vomit what little she had in her stomach up all over Eddie, but she managed.   
  
Pushing lightly on his chest, indicating that he should let her try her own feet, she looked around, finally seeing the building that Sawbones had worked out of when she was there last. Separated from the row of decrepit houses with their peeling, corrugated aluminum siding, the building was one of the least inviting places she had ever seen. The door was missing, no glass on the holes that passed as windows, and no light from inside… but her straining ears could hear the faintest sounds of a woman crying from within. This was the place.  
  
“Inside… down… basement. Might have…” She fought against the weakness, grimacing at the waver in her voice, betraying her pain. “Be… nice.” She could already tell that she had made a mistake, directing Eddie to take her to Sawbones’ little pit of despair. The discredited surgeon was known for her back-alley abortions and willingness to stitch up bullet holes without asking questions. The woman might not even have the skill to repair the damage that Rose had taken, and she would be way too fascinated by Eddie’s unique physiology. Hellfire, the first time Rose had come through the woman had used the mercenary’s anesthesia-induced lethargy to run a few ‘experiments’. Really, the surgeon’s only selling point was her absolute hatred for Slade Wilson… well, specifically Slade’s mentor Wintergreen. Rose didn’t know the story, but she knew the older woman wouldn’t sell her out, and Eddie wouldn’t leave her alone here.  
  
Today was a day for bad decisions, or so it would seem.


	3. Chapter 3

No matter how bad she hurt, no matter how much she wanted to lean into Eddie for support, Rose first tried to stand on her own two feet. She needed to prove that she was stronger, tougher, better adapted to survival than anyone else. It wasn’t a healthy need, she was fully aware of that, but there it was. At Eddie’s whispered ‘Hot damn…’ Rose allowed herself a small smile. When all the world was in flux, somehow he remained comfortingly the same. He was a rock, her rock, the one that she could always rely on. No matter how many times she had greeted him with suspicion, he simply patiently waited for her to screw her head back on straight.

As they headed up the sloping pile of dirt that might have been a lawn at one point, the white haired woman relaxed her rigid self-control enough to lean into Eddie. She felt him slip his arm around her, and was horrifically grateful for the support. It was almost enough to make her pull away again, that terrifying sensation of relief, but she stopped herself. Sawbones was the kind of figure you wanted to present a united front against. Her injuries were enough weakness to expose in one place. They paused at the top of the stone steps, examining the darkness they descended into. Once more Eddie spoke, and once more it made Rose grin. "Hello?" His irritation shone clearly, "If someone’s here and they actually want to save someone’s life, now is the time."

Rose patted Eddie’s hand comfortingly, wincing a little as the crisped flesh tugged. Tamping down the pain she took the first step, dragging her reluctant companion along beside her. As they descended the light increased, as did the volume of the weeping female. When they hit the bottom of the stairs, what passed as a waiting room was spread before them. Warped and broken lawn chairs were scattered across the leaf-strewn cement floor, and at one end a bored looking blonde was examining her manicure as a ragged looking woman cried in front of her. Finally, she cut through the sobbing, her tone irate and impatient. “Look lady, that’s the price of the procedure. If you didn’t want to leave it here, you should have gone to a legit doctor. If you don’t shut up and get out, I’ll fetch the doctor back out and she can deal with you.” The crying halted abruptly, and white-faced the woman rushed past the pair of friends and up the stairs. Looking bored now, the blonde examined them. “I’m going to assume you don’t have an appointment. The doctor doesn’t take walk-ins.”

Rose did her best to pull herself up, glaring at the blonde who seemed impervious to her threats. “Tell Sawbones that Ravager is here. I’m calling in my debt. The old bitch will know what it’s about.”

Unimpressed, the blonde raised an eyebrow. “The doctor is finished procedures for the morning and is about to head for lunch. If you would like to make an appointment, I think she has something available next week.”

Rose could feel the rage she had spent so long corralling licking at her insides, but she fought to tamp it down. She hated dealing with officious little insects who abused whatever semblance of power they seemed to have. If she was in fighting form, the plastic little horror wouldn’t dare to give her this kind of attitude. She pushed away from Eddie and stumbled forward to the desk, bracing herself on her good arm and shoving the blackened flesh of her injury in the woman’s face. “You tell that whore of a hacksaw that if she’s not out here and dealing with this in ten minutes I will drag all her old shite out of the closet and let Slade fucking Wilson dig around in it. Got it?”

The blonde blinked slowly, looking past Rose to Eddie, eyes running over him with the first bit of interest she had shown. “Your … friend here needs to make an appointment or leave. Perhaps you can find words small enough so that she can understand them?”

Rose wanted to kill someone, and the fact that in her current condition she couldn’t even bitch-slap the saucy bimbo that worked for Sawbones made her want to scream. She had been at her lowest point, and all she wanted now was to live, even if the only purpose of her existence would be to eradicate everything blondie loved from this point on. Eddie helped her to a chair, another gross indignity that her own ineptitude had driven her to, doing his best to be gentle with her, though she could feel the heat begin to emanate off of his body. She refused to flinch away from it, even though her nerves were screaming. This was her Eddie, he would never, ever cause her pain.

“I’ll deal with this. Breathe deeply.” His voice calmed the frayed edges of her nerves, and she focused on doing as he said, pulling the oxygen into her struggling lungs as she watched her best friend try to finagle something like a human response out of the primping princess at the desk. Rose couldn’t hear what he said, so she entertained herself by imagining what the receptionist’s face would look like if she plucked each of those manicured nails out of their beds, one by one. How many would it take before she lost the attitude? One? Five? She pondered the possibilities with a morbid delight.

Eddie moved to the receptionist, placing both hands on the desk and crowding the woman. “Now you listen, and you listen well. A few things are going to happen. You're going to get her healed up, because for some God awful reason, she trusts the doctor you have in there, and seems to think she’s capable of it. You're not going to take advantage of her, and you're not going to do any tests against her will. In repayment, you can take whatever you want from me at a later time. You got it, little miss attitude?”

The blonde examined Eddie with a shrewd eye, and then offered him a twisted smile. “Look, I’m sure your little son-of-Satan look gets the gals all weak in the knees, but Sawbones is the boss around these parts, and no half-dressed skank and her circus-freak boytoy are going to dictate in her place of business. I don’t think we have any appointments available for the likes of your bitchy friend anyway, so you might as well rent her a six by three, since I don’t think she’ll make it much beyond to do anyway.”

“Angeline, that’s enough. You are no longer amusing me.” The blonde froze, turning to look to the door behind her that swung open. Stepping through the door was a tall woman, standing well over six feet, in a doctor’s coat with the cuffs stained a rusty brown. She looked to be in her early 50s, and had her steel grey hair pulled back in a severe bun. “Reschedule the rest of my… patients, and then go home. Maybe tomorrow you will be more of a mind to let me decide who is worthy of my time.” With a stern frown, she dismissed the nervous looking woman and turned to Eddie. “You must forgive my assistant, she is young and extremely stupid. Though I would love to run experiments on someone with your unique physiology, the young Miss Wilson and I have a previous agreement that should more than cover what needs doing. Go fetch her and bring her into the back, I will see if I can repair whatever idiotic thing she has done to herself this time.”

With that the tall doctor disappeared back through the door she had entered through. The receptionist shot a dirty glare at both Eddie and Rose, but moved quickly to flip through a small date book and grab the phone, occasionally sending a nervous glance over her shoulder. She was quickly caught up in an argument with one of the patients over the phone, the prospective patient clearly unhappy about having their appointment moved at such short notice.


	4. Chapter 4

In spite of herself, Rose was grateful when Eddie lifted her and teleported them both into the next room, following Sawbones. She was losing strength and her grasp on consciousness faster than she was comfortable with. The next room, despite the dingy and uninviting nature of the place so far, was surprisingly clean. They had appeared between two folding chairs, one on either side of the door, as if it wasn’t uncommon to have bodyguards in the Doctor’s office. Off to one side the surgeon was washing her hands in a large, stainless steel sink. She looked over her shoulder to the two young vigilantes and nodded at a paper-covered examination table on the other side of the room. “Set the girl there, Mister Bloomberg. I would prefer you stay in the waiting room, but if Miss Wilson insists you may stay so long as you sit in one of the chairs and don’t bother me.”

Rose’s fingers tightened their grip on Eddie instinctively, and if she had the energy or the ability she might have flushed with the spear of embarrassment that ran through her. She disentangled herself from her friend and hesitantly sat on the examination pad. Lowering her voice so that only Eddie could hear, she kept her eyes fixated on his feet. “You don’t have to stay. This isn’t going to be pretty.” She felt raw and exposed, as if the layers of skin that had been burnt away had revealed more than just bone and sinew. The assassin did her best to quell the turbulent swell of emotions that was building inside her, though she had little luck.

Sawbones stepped up beside Eddie and indicated the chair by the door, which he moved to only after ensuring that Rose was okay. Pulling on a clean pair of gloves as she moved, the doctor brusquely examined the damage. Rose raised her chin, staring at a place on the wall over the woman’s shoulder. The only indication of pain she allowed was a tightening around her eyes and the odd tick of her cheek muscles from clenching her jaw shut. The doctor was quick but thorough, pulling on the edges of the skin, running her fingers across the charred flesh, even tapping on the bit of bone that had been exposed. She frowned. From the side table she produced a large pair of scissors and used them to remove the sports bra and bike shorts that Rose had worn beneath her armor, leaving the white-haired woman sitting in her underwear and socks, staring into nothingness. The examination continued down the charred side of the young woman, until finally the doctor stepped away.

“You’re lucky. If your father hadn’t pumped you full of his serum you wouldn’t have survived this at all, but if I cut away the dead flesh your own healing factor should guarantee that you keep the use of the arm. It will take time, and you will have to be careful if you ever want full range of motion again. All you really lost was muscle and fat deposits, both are within your ability to regrow. Other than that once I clear out the necrotic tissue I can sew some fabricated dermis on top to keep everything clean and safe. The injuries on your side will heal on their own, but I recommend you find yourself some serious burn ointment and some heavy duty painkillers if you want to get actual sleep anytime soon. Once you’re healed up you can come back and deal with the standard fee.”

Rose nodded, eyes still affixed to the wall. “Good. Do it.” She reached down, barely wincing as she pulled a tiny USB drive from her sock. “That’s all the information I have managed since my last visit.” The doctor pocketed the drive in a smooth motion, then pushed the scissors out of the way and produced a scalpel. The tall female paced around the examination table like a predator sizing up its prey.

“All right, Miss Wilson. Lay yourself down.” Shooting a glance towards the chair that Eddie had been offered, Rose wasn’t sure if she was hoping he had stayed, or if she was hoping he had gone to wait outside.

It was strange, how much she let fear control her life. Rose thought about that as she sought out Eddie’s eyes and locked her gaze with his own. She absorbed the way he looked now, tense and angry. Unhappy. He didn’t like the arrangements she had made, but he wouldn’t interfere. He was always so careful with her, treating her like she was fragile, as if she would fly apart in a heartbeat. In some way, that aspect of him soothed her, and she gave him a brave smile.

That was when Sawbones started to work. She refused to cry out as the metal cut deep into her damaged flesh, filleting away the charred remains of what had once been her skin. The girl bit her lip, holding it all inside, closing her eye to keep the pain from shooting from her across the room to where the only person she ever really trusted sat. The surgeon paused, eyeing her with a detached sort of interest, and then went back to her cutting with a shrug. Her hands moved efficiently, if not gently, tugging on the skin to draw it taut before digging out all the badness. Five minutes passed. Ten. All Rose could think was how much better this would be if she could risk unconsciousness, but it wasn’t the time.

The doctor put aside her scalpel, grabbing a few sponges to soak up the blood that was pooling around the young woman’s arm. Carefully she tucked each sponge into a sealed vial as it became too soaked to be of any further use. Running water over her hands and the scalpel, she set to work again, digging out every charred remnant of the burns, placing the desiccated flesh in its own little container. Over and over the process repeated, the cutting, the mopping of the blood, and more cutting. The only sounds that Rose could hear were her own laboured breaths, and the off-key humming of Sawbones as she worked. It sounded like Madonna, _Like a Virgin._ Fucking freak.

Almost an hour had passed, and Rose was sweating with the effort of maintaining control. She risked another look at Eddie, worry for him creasing her brow. It was bad enough feeling what was going on, she couldn’t imagine what it was doing to him, having to watch. She gave him a tentative smile as the surgeon deposited the last of the sponges in a vial. “There. That’s done. Just have to sew on the dermal patch so nothing nasty gets in there while you heal up.” The doctor strides across the room to collect what she needed, and Rose risked a glance at the gaping hole in her arm. She tried to close the fingers on her hand, but there was no response, and she scowled.

The skin patch went on quickly, Sawbones’ needle practically flying as she worked. There were many things that could be said about the woman, but she did her job, and she did it surprisingly well. That was for the best, considering how much Rose would be paying for the privilege. She practically ground her teeth. The last thing she wanted was another series of Sawbones’ tests, but a deal was a deal, and a Wilson wasn’t a welcher. Finally, the doctor let her up. “That’s as good as it gets, Miss Wilson. Give it two days at least before you get it wet, and apply this ointment,” she offered a small white tube, “any time it gets itchy.” She paused, turning that interested gaze back to Eddie once more before focusing on Rose. “I’ll check your progress when you return to pay up.”


	5. Chapter 5

As Sawbones relayed her instructions, Red Devil came barreling towards the two of them like he was going to murder someone. Rose closed her eye, hating to see him laced with the anger that was really more her trademark than his own. If he wasn’t careful, he would ignite the whole shoddy medical centre, and she was pretty sure that she had had her fill of flames for the foreseeable future. She opened her eye to catch his gaze, to will some of the strange calm she had begun feeling to her best friend. It was kind of like she was floating, but that could be just the pain shooting through her veins. Eddie was speaking to the doctor, but Rose couldn’t hear him, the adrenaline from her surgery sending her spiraling into a precognitive episode, her eye rolling up momentarily so that only the white showed.

Coming down from a vision, when she wasn’t in battle, was difficult. She was more in the moment, seeing further, and none of it was good. Desperately she squeezed his fingers with her good hand, panting with the exertion. “Don’t bargain with Sawbones, Red.” Her voice was hoarse, a tremulous note showing just how weak she was. “I won’t have it.” She directed a particularly nasty smile at the surgeon. “And the Doc knows better than to mess with my friends.”

The large woman laughed at the two young people. “Isn’t this cute. The little red devil standing guard over the demon girl with no conscience, and she’s trying to defend him.” It was like she was speaking over and through them, not to the pair directly. She finally settled her gaze on Rose, her own nasty smile matching the one-eyed girl’s. “He can offer me whatever he wants, Miss Wilson, but this payment has been offered and accepted already. I never double-bargain. If you can make your way out on your own feet, then you are free to go, but if you can’t,” the smile spreads until her grin nearly splits her face in two, “well then you are welcome to stay here for as long as I choose.”

Using Eddie’s arm to help drag herself upwards, Rose swings her legs over the edge of the table, biting back the painful noises scrambling for release. Her lip was chewed so raw that she’d be tasting pennies for weeks, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was making it out of Sawbones’ lair before the former Kid Devil got dragged into a world far darker than he was ready for, at least as far as Rose was concerned. “C’mon. I’m strong enough to get my ass out of here, and I’ll be damned if you spend one minute more than necessary near that old vulture.” She could sense the argument within her friend, and swung herself to her feet, facing to face with him. She pulled her good hand free of his, placing it on his cheek so he couldn’t look away. “It’s bad enough that I brought you here, don’t make this worse.”

She had so many regrets. She knew that Eddie was aware how dark her world could get, but she hated him having face it like this, it felt like a betrayal of some sort. He always pushed her to be better, but as soon as he turned around, it seemed she was constantly backsliding into yet another dumpster fire. She offered him a half-smile, painfully squaring her shoulders. “C’mon hot stuff, I need a smoke. We just gotta get up those stairs, no big deal, right?”

Rose held her breath, watching Eddie as he fought within himself. Inside she felt pangs of guilt and regret, hating to make him feel so off-kilter. She never should have brought him to a place like this, to the darker side of her world. He didn’t deserve it, he had enough badness in his life. When he finally conceded, giving her his arm and leading her towards the exit, she heaved a sigh of relief. Whatever was going on inside his fool head, she had time to talk him out of it. She could handle the likes of Sawbones, and it was her duty to keep that kind of trash away from Eddie. He likely wouldn’t appreciate the effort, though.

Frowning she looked down at the shredded remains of her sports bra and shorts. “Fuck…” she stopped at the exit, grabbing a spare lab coat from where Sawbones kept her things. “I’m taking this, you can add it to my tab.” Just what she needed, another debt to the creep. As they made their painful way up the uneven steps and back out into the darkening streets of the slum, Rose leaned harder against Eddie, deliberately placing her tender skin against his. She could feel how he was trying to hold himself apart, afraid of hurting her, and she wouldn’t have it. She looked out of the dirt that masqueraded as a lawn for the hovel, hand naturally going to her pocket for her pack of cigarettes.

“Double fuck…” Resting her head against Eddie’s shoulder she closed her eye, just resting for a half second, mentally searching the city map in her head. If we get up to the corner of Alton Park and West 38th, we can catch the bus most of the way to the place I’ve got on Chestnut Street. She attempted a bright smile for Eddie’s sake, but at this point she was just hoping to look about halfway alive. “It’ll take about half an hour, but the receptionist didn’t have much cash in her purse.” With a harsh little burst of laughter, Rose dug a few crumpled bills out of the lab coat she was wearing, waving them at her best friend. “Gimp as I am, bitches didn’t even see me.”

There was devilment in her eye for sure, but she was forcing it for Eddie’s sake. He was too serious, and she hated being the person who had made him that way. Despite the pain she leaned in to brush her lips along the edge of his cheek, just like she used to back in the Tower all those years ago. “Don’t go dark on me, hot stuff. That’s my job. You’re the devil on the outside, I’m the devil on the inside. I need you to be my light.” She was exhausted, but she got the impression that right now, Eddie needed her reassurance more than she needed to lie down. She squeezed the bicep beneath her hand gently. “If you go dark, what’s the point of any of it anymore?”


	6. Chapter 6

“You don't have to worry about me going dark, Rose.” Eddie promised, planting a careful kiss on the top of her head, and moving the hair out of her face as he led her off in the direction she had indicated. “And you're not a devil inside, just as there is no devil in me. Well... not technically. I mean, it's complicated. Point is, you're better than you'll ever give yourself credit for.”

It didn’t escape Rose how careful Eddie was being with her, how much effort he put into holding her weight, and it was touching how casually he pretended that he wasn’t practically carrying her all the way to the bus stop. Whatever reaction his appearance evoked from other people, to her he was exactly what an angel looked like. Sometimes she felt like she was collapsing in on herself with the weight of the Wilson name and reputation buffeting her from all sides, but with Eddie… he didn’t see her father when he looked at her. He didn’t see her brothers, warped and then murdered. The Titans had expected her to follow that same path, but not him. Somewhere deep inside him, Eddie had a deep-rooted conviction that she was better than where she came from.

Progress to the bus stop was slow, and several times Rose caved to her exhausted body, holding up a hand for Eddie to stop so that she could catch her breath. She hated being weak, but somehow, it hurt less with him here beside her. Finally the graffiti-covered bus shelter came into view, and the Ravager allowed a small, tight smile to tug her lips up at one corner. “Well hot stuff, you got me halfway here. I’m impressed.” It wasn’t exactly a thank you, but the gratitude was heavy in her voice, and bright in her eye when she caught his gaze. Easing herself down onto the dirty bench, she pressed the crumpled dollar bills into Eddie’s warm hand. “Can you pop up to the Kangaroo Express on the next corner up and grab me a pack of smokes?”

She was tired, about at the end of her abilities, but the fading adrenaline from her system had left her with a helluva craving, and she needed something to fill the void. “I promise if the bus comes, I won’t leave without you.” Her smile tightened further, her voice falling flat and sardonic. It wasn’t like she could climb onto a bus under her own power right now anyway. What she needed was to sleep for about a million hours, and maybe eat something. Like a hippopotamus, or maybe just the Dollarama ramen she had tucked away in her little flat. That sounded good, they wouldn’t even have to cross an ocean to acquire it. She snorted. “Please?”

Rose watched Eddie, not rushing him, letting him make the decision on his own. She could feel his indecision, and almost chuckled as his brows furrowed in mild disapproval. He was so straight-laced, such a good boy at all times, perhaps that was part of what appealed to her in him. Everything he did was good and true, kind of like her own private Superman, but one that wouldn’t judge her when she couldn’t live up to his exacting standards. She still couldn’t comprehend how he saw anything but a monster when he looked at her, but she wouldn’t take it for granted. Not this time.

He shook his head, and for a moment she actually believed that he was going to tell her no, but then he gave her that smile of his, the one that made her insides twist strangely. She never knew what name to give that odd dropping sensation in her stomach, but he was the only one who had ever elicited it. “I’ll be back quicker than you can say jiffy.” The scent of sulfur engulfed them and then he was gone in a puff of smoke. She shook her head, staring off into the distance, introspective as she fought the pain in her body and the snapshots of the future her adrenaline-soaked nerves tried to thrust upon her.

“Nerd. I’d never use a word like jiffy.” She snorted, leaning against the Plexiglas of the bus enclosure, watching the people pass by. A few moved as if to join her inside the small structure, but a fierce glare from her single blue eye was enough to send them scampering along to the next stop. She prodded at the emotions within her, taking them out like fresh clothes from a new season and airing them out, giving them names. Trust. She trusted him more than any person living or dead. She remembered that emotion from her long ago youth, had believed that she couldn’t feel it anymore. Not until Eddie. Caring was there too, and a degree of compassion that would make her father crack down so hard on her she’d have more trouble standing than she did now. That was it. Anything else was far beyond what was left to her shattered psyche. The last emotion was harder to accept. Fear. More than she feared being caught be her father, she feared disappointing the red-skinned boy she cared so much about. Feared he would see the truth about her, see how hollow she was inside.

Once upon a time, she thought he wanted her to love him. Part of her worried that he still did, but that particular emotion had been beaten out of her so many times that she knew she’d never feel it again. She had loved her mother, gone for so long now. She had even loved the Madisons, though they were ripped from her as well. She had loved Lian… and that had been brutal. She had tried to love her father, but he had scorned that. And Joseph… Joseph had been the last straw. After that she had locked part of herself away, cut it out as concisely as Sawbones had cut out the dead flesh from her arm. It was done, and she had no regrets. She only feared that the person she had left was not enough for her friend, that her friendship was not enough.

That thread of thought vanished as Eddie appeared back in front of her, a pack of cigarettes in one hand, his face holding a look that shot through Rose harsher than a bullet. She’d seen the apprehension. He had expected her to abandon him, even though he had no one right now. That hurt, more than she would ever admit, but she simply gave him a slow smile, the one she used to drive the boys at the Tower mad with. It was more of a mask than the one she donned when she went stalking her targets, but it made her feel powerful, and let her keep her emotions to herself. Better to stay locked inside your own head than take risks, she didn’t have to learn that lesson again.

Reaching out, she snagged the cigarettes from Eddie’s hand. “Thanks, hot stuff. I’ve been craving one of these like you wouldn’t believe.” Tapping one out into fingers that still shook, though less now than they had an hour ago, she stood, leaning close to the man. “Gimme a light?”


	7. Chapter 7

He tugged the cigarette from her hand and put it to her lips, giving her a cautious smile. “Should've seen me get hold of these. Had to practically fight the U.S. government.”

His laugh warmed her, chased away the chill of rejection that was always just a hand-breadth away. As Eddie leaned in, lighting the cigarette dangling from her lips with his breath, as he had so many times before, the smile she had only half-meant spread to her eye, sparkling there with a rare show of good humour. Few were the souls who had seen her really glow with real joy, and this red devil of a man had seen it, caused it, more than most. She twined her own rough-hewn, throaty laugh together with his as they leaned against the graffiti-marked Plexiglas. “My hero,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to lightly squeeze his bicep as she took a long, nicotine-filled draw.

She blew smoke out her nose, enjoying the burn, closing her eye in a moment of clear appreciation. She let it linger, thinking that she rarely let her eyes close this long in public, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, gesturing out at the filth-strewn street with her cigarette. The people huddled on the sidewalk were worn looking, tired eyes staring vacantly out into the street. To one side, a panhandler shook his paper cup, trying to elicit sympathy from those around him. “You see all this, hot stuff? This is the real world, the one that all those bright-eyed kids up at the tower in their spandex and armor can’t even comprehend the existence of. It’s all well and good, tangling with supervillains, saving the world, but what’s the point in saving a place if you don’t even know the people living there.”

She shook her head, taking another long draw off her cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stamping it out with a stained, sock-covered foot. “I’ve spent most of my adult life around people like this. People who have almost nothing beyond the next slice of escapism they can scrounge together the cash for. Hellfire, I have been one of them.” She laughed again, the bitterness she kept locked inside escaping on the tail end of the sound as she ran her fingers over the faux-skin covering her arm. “Lynns was robbing a methadone clinic, I’m not even sure what he was looking for, but there he was, flame thrower blazing, civilians screaming. No superhero is going to come rescue a bunch of strung-out junkies. Nearly a third of the people in this stupid city live below the poverty line, and we criminalize the few things that let them step outside their misery for a moment, and then forget about them. It’s sickening.”

She was tired, so damn tired of defending herself, of struggling against her own addictions, and seeing the scorn on the faces of people who judged folks like her. She absently wrapped her good arm around Eddie and gave him a squeeze. “Bus is here. Let’s get outta this shithole.”

Eddie didn’t respond to her soapbox moment, but she hadn’t really expected him to. He always seemed so in tune to her moods and needs, giving her silence when that was what her tortured thoughts required, even if she didn’t know that was what she was searching for. Visions of hungry days and sleepless nights danced through her head, some on the streets, and some under her father’s stern training. She leaned in close as he helped her onto the bus, tucking her close to the window and sliding in beside her. Part of her just wanted to withdraw, to plaster herself against the cold glass and just drift away for a little while, but there was another part of her that wanted to cling to the heat and the reality that was her Eddie.

She let out a small laugh at that thought. Her Eddie. He didn’t belong to her, she couldn’t even keep him alive half the time. They were so different. He was just so… good. She could practically smell the altruism off of him. He had worried her, down at Sawbones’ place. Rose regretted dragging him there, but the woman knew what she was doing, and the threat of Slade was always looming in the back of the young mercenary’s mind. Still, her Eddie had been fierce, and just thinking about it made Rose smile slightly.

Adjusting in the plastic seat, trying to find a comfortable position, Rose tucked her feet against the side of the bus and drew herself into a small little ball of humanity, her head resting on Eddie’s thigh. For a moment panic raced through her, unaccustomed to presenting her blind side up to the world, but she dashed it away, tugging Eddie’s arm around her like a blanket. “I don’t mean to be bitter, Red. It’s become a habit for me, safer than being vulnerable. I know you get it. You’re the only one who ever has. You’re good people, and I am trying not to pull you down into the filth I wallow in, but it’s so hard. Some day, some how, I’m going to be worthy of the trust you place in me.”

She was exhausted, the nicotine curling through her veins, pushing away the built up adrenaline and suppressing her rapid heartbeats, allowing her body to calm, even relax somewhat. Her good eye drifted shut, the material of Eddie’s pants a familiar and comforting roughness against her hand and cheek. She should be alert, on edge, but somehow he just made her feel… safe. That was the real danger of spending time with her old friend. She let her guard down, left herself exposed in more ways than one, but right now she just couldn’t seem to care. Half asleep, she ran her fingers in small circles near the top of his knee. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Edward Bloomberg, and if you go sacrificing yourself to save this shitty world again I swear on my swords I will kick your ass so hard you’ll be sipping Kool-Aid through a straw for the rest of your very long life.”

With a small laugh she kissed his leg and allowed herself to drift off, just for a minute. She wasn’t sleeping, not really, just resting her eye until they made it to their bus stop. No big deal.


	8. Chapter 8

Rose jolted awake several stops before her own, mind processing information well before the rest of her was fully present. Unused to the sensation of relaxation making her limbs lethargic, she panicked. She jerked upwards, hands shooting out to search for her weapons, than drawing back in with a painful hiss. Twisting around, she pushed her back against the window, feet out, fists in front. Confusion flashed across her features, followed by more pain, then anxiety. Finally her eye landed on Eddie and her brows narrowed. Her brain was sluggish, the painkillers filling her brain with cotton. She tried to remember where she was, what was happening. Embarrassment flooded her face, tinging her cheeks and neck red beneath the soot and grit that was smeared across it.

Tugging the lab coat tighter around her, Rose slanted her gaze away from the horned young man, shaking her head so that her hair fell over the patch blocking her ruined eye socket from view. She caught the gaze of a young man a few seats over, watching her like she was some kind of exhibit at a zoo, curiosity clear on his blunt features. With a snarl she tugged the yellow cord above her head, signalling the driver to make a stop. Pushing up, she skirted around Eddie, staggering forward to place a hand on the seat behind the rough-looking youth. “Keep staring, dickhead, and I’ll pull your spine out your tiny cockhole and beat you do death with it, you understand me?”

As he stumbled and stuttered through an apology she stiffened her spine, stalking off the bus with all the dignity that Sweet Lilli had demonstrated when patrons thought spitting vitriol at the Madam would get them what they wanted. Feet on the pavement she almost stumbled, but spite and rage kept her steady as she moved down the cracked sidewalk. Though not as rough as Sawbones’ neighbourhood, the area wasn’t in the best condition, and the ground beneath her feet didn’t exactly lend itself to stable footing. She felt raw, exposed in some way, and she hated leaving herself exposed in any form, even in front of the people, the only person really, she trusted. There was no reason for it, and she angrily ran fingers through her tangled hair, brushing it back. She hated cowering, it wasn’t her nature, and things had to change. Again.

Rose’s stomach twisted at the thought. Humans were supposed to adapt their environment to themselves. They didn’t evolve, they conquered and shaped the world around them until it suited what they needed, but not her. The world kept beating against her, and she kept withdrawing. The hard shell she had erected to keep herself safe might have a few cracks in it, but she would do what she did best, fill them in and keep going. Survive. Evolve. Cut off any pieces of herself that weren’t working and leave them behind without a backwards glance. She had done it a million times before, this wouldn’t be any different.

She’d always been a good liar. People barely believed her when she told the truth, so best to tell them the lies that they were more willing to accept, but she tried to be honest with herself, at least. Sometimes. Mostly. Her feet paused, and she looked over her shoulder to see if Eddie had followed, hating the weakness in the motion, in the roiling ball of pins and tar catching in her throat as she considered what her next step should be if he hadn’t.

No one else had gotten off the bus. She had done that, had scared the people going about their day. She sucked at laying low, at remaining under the radar. She inevitably slipped up, like today. Lost her temper, drew attention. Disappointed the people – person ~~she lov~~ she cared about. Why did she keep trying? Wrapping her arms around herself, she slumped against the glass of the nearby bus shelter, refusing to meet Eddie’s gaze. She couldn’t do it, the shame was racing through her veins like molten lava, heating her from the inside until she was ready to crack under the slightest pressure.

“Rose. You can't keep doing this.” Eddie finally said, his eyes on her, trying to find her line of sight. “You can't keep running every time you feel weak. Not because of me, or anyone else... but because you'll never have a life of your own if you do.”

Her friend’s words hammered against her, feeling like blows, even though somewhere inside the tangled mess inside of her she knew they weren’t meant that way. She was just, she was so confused. Lost. She’d felt so strong, but after every defeat she felt weak, as if the narrative about Slade Wilson’s weapon of a child was a lie. She hated the label, and still she clung to it. After all, when you identified one way for so long, how could you throw it all away? What would she have left? She’d tried to be Deathstroke’s Ravager, but that had nearly killed what remained of her soul. She had tried to be a Titan, but the teens had never warmed up to her. Raven Roth was the daughter of the literal devil, but it was Rose they hadn’t trusted. Not that she’d tried to be trustworthy.

She had even tried, for a while, to be simple Rose Worth. Daughter of Lillian, but there was too much blood on her hands. The world she had grown up with was always right outside her door, and she couldn’t ignore it. When she did, other people paid the consequences. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to sort out her thoughts, looking for something, anything to give Eddie. An excuse, an apology maybe, but she was seething inside. All those emotions she tried to bury suddenly clamoring to be heard. The counterpoint of pain from her burns and surgery was nearly deafening. She closed her eye, exercised the strength of will she had honed to the point where mind control hadn’t been able to hold her, and crushed all her emotional responses down. Finally she looked to her friend, calm. Emotionless.

“What else can I do, Red? Weakness will get me killed, and as long as he is out there, as long as he might have some use for me, I won’t be permitted a life of my own.” She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with one.” She looked away, watching people across the street have an argument. Probably something small and stupid, like who had washed the dishes last. Longing tried to snake up through her, but she squashed it just as quickly. Things like that weren’t for her. “I tried, Eddie. I tried so hard to just be, but I couldn’t do it. I could hear them all, on the other side of the walls, on the streets under my windows. There’s monsters all around us, and I’m one of them, but all these people just forget. I envy them their ignorance.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Rose.” He paused, watching the way she flinched, the way she tucked away inside herself like an injured animal, and it hurt him. It hurt him enough to say what he needed to. “Rose.” He repeated, crossing the distance between them, doing everything in his power to find and maintain eye contact. “I don't mean a normal life.” He nodded across the street to those there, flicking a thumb in their direction. “That's not us. And that's probably super boring anyway.” A small, reflective smile crossed his features. An attempt at a joke. But the earnestness of his expression did not change, and quickly, he turned to face her again.

“Look, I get it. I do. Some part of your life is going to always be running. I know that, and I'm not asking for that to change. But you've got people in your life that would help you with that. You've got people that would cover your tracks; that would do everything in their power to keep that bastard away from you.” Reaching out carefully and putting a hand on her uninjured shoulder, Eddie sought her eyes, sought her expression. “You've got me. And I'm not going anywhere, and you're going to have to get used to that. You're going to have to stop chasing me away.”

He didn’t get it. The realization rocketed through her, raking the coals inside her. She couldn’t let the rage build, not here, not with him. This was her Eddie, the one constant in her life. This wasn’t the time or the place to have this talk, but if today had taught her anything, it was that time was finite. Finally she allowed him to catch her eye, let him see the despair and rage and self-hatred building inside her. “You are the only thing in my life that he can still use to hurt me, and despite that I can’t let you go. I keep trying, but I can’t. I won’t give you up… and you still don’t understand.”

Painfully she raised her injured arm up to brush her hair out of her face, eye flickering over Eddie’s shoulder to watch the arguing pair finish, laugh, and embrace each other. “You always wanted to be special, to be a hero. You had Cassidy to admire, to emulate. You found that demon and did whatever it was you did… I know I’m aggressive, that I seem to seek conflict… but I’m not like you. I never wanted to be a hero, I never wanted the serum flowing through my veins, or the adrenaline-fueled visions. I wanted normal. Boring. I spent my childhood in a brothel and my teen years were scattered across continents.” She focused her gaze on him, reaching out to cling to his arm. “You’re right, I can’t have normal, I’m far too fucked up for that, but …” She released him, stumbling back a step. Her voice went low, raw like an injured animal. She gave that bitter bark of a laugh again. “I guess deep down I still hoped. Isn’t that stupid? My only friend looks like a devil and I thought one day I might get a picket fence. Fucking idiot.”

She turned from him, unable to watch his reaction to her revelation. She already regretted it, wanted to snatch it back from the air, cram it back inside of her, under the roiling ball of rage that kept her going, kept her alive. It was the secret fuel that kept her fighting. Not the injustice of the world, not the focus of her father, but that stolen dream of normalcy that she had only barely tasted. She really was pathetic. Unworthy, just like Slade had always said she was.

There was a rocking revelation hidden in there, one that Eddie hadn't been prepared for. Rose had always been so adamant and against the idea of any form of normality, and Eddie had always assumed it was something she didn't want. He had always suspected it had _something_ to do with her trauma, but never to an extent that she felt robbed of the very idea of it, and here he had played into that fear, that blatant idea that she could never have such normalcy. But what could he say? Would he be a liar to take back his words? He didn't know. Such a life was outside of his own grasp, but he had never wanted it. Could he say with any earnestness that it was something she could achieve? He didn't know. But, taking a few steps forward, he knew what he _did_ have to say.

“Rose.” Eddie said firmly, approaching her from behind. “I know you see everything around you as a threat. Something that could be ripped from you. You might not think it, but I understand it. And while I can't ever know the full depth of your pain regarding that, the fear you live in, everything you've had to give up in life in order to not lose it...” Letting out a garbled sigh, he shook his head heavily. “...I know I left you. I know that was my decision, and I left you, and I'm sorry. Truly. Deeply. But you need to treat me as an equal, not something to be protected from your Father. Because, as much as you talk about not risking me... and as much as that means the world to me, that I mean enough to you to protect... it would mean a whole hell of a lot more if you trusted me enough to stand by your side _against_ your Father, rather than stand in the shadows behind you. You keep saying it. Hero. Well, I'm not that. But being that means fighting your fears... and occasionally, fighting for your loved ones fears.”

She let him come up behind her, the muscles in her back and shoulders tensing automatically at the heat from his body. She was aware of him with every atom of her being, she felt raw, more sensitive than the barely covered nerves struggling to work beneath the messy skin grafts on her injured arm. Still, part of her was relieved that he knew her deep dark secret, that he could finally understand how sad and scared and pathetic that little voice inside her was, and why she couldn’t give in to it. Why she couldn’t let her inner self make decisions. Deep inside, Rose Wilson was an idiot.

“It’s trained into me, Eddie. Worse than my skills with the sword, it’s at the very heart of me like a rot. I know you can handle yourself in a fight, I’ve seen you, and there’s no one I would trust at my side as much as I trust you, but that’s not the real issue. I was sitting at the table with them when LaFarge slaughtered the Madisons on Slade’s paycheque. I was supposed to look after Lian when those murdering scumbags came for her and Cheshire. Even my time with the Titans… they were right to distrust me, he arranged to put me there. So I left, and you stayed, and the second I turned away you died.”

She took a deep breath, trying to pull her scattered emotions back together, to weave them into the tight ball that grounded the rage inside her, but they were loose, sweeping through her like a rampage. “Don’t you understand, Eddie? It’s not your fault you left me. It’s mine. I wasn’t brave enough to take what Slade taunted me with and keep it for my own. I wasn’t worthy of you, and I refused to risk myself further. That was my choice, and it already got you killed once. It’s not that I don’t trust you to stand beside me against my father, it’s that I know when I finally face him, I won’t walk away. It’s his curse that his children each die by his hand, and my time is coming up. I don’t want to walk you into another death, not if I can help it.”

She bit her lip, unaware that she was shaking with the effort of keeping herself calm. Her voice, at odds with her hunched posture, was calm and measured, almost devoid of emotion as she spoke. “I know I can’t beat him, I’m not sure if anyone can, he’s so fucking prepared. Maybe it’s better if I don’t.” She started walking towards the safe house, running away from her honesty, but she stopped. She stopped because he deserved that last piece of her, the one she had kept alive with his heat and light all these years. The part that had craved what the Madisons had offered her. She turned to face Eddie, though she couldn’t meet his eyes. “That’s what has been going through my head all this time. That’s what keeps me running scared and pushing you away. Maybe it’s stupid, but that’s what it is.” She made a sad sound that might have tried to be a laugh. “And after all this time, I still haven’t seen Cinderella.”


	10. Chapter 10

Each word she spoke broke Eddie a little more. He had always known she kept at a distance for a reason, but he'd assumed it was to protect herself from the emotions it wrought, not him. A hand idly reached out to her, but she was already on the move. For a moment, Eddie was afraid. Afraid that she would keep walking, that the bare emotions she had given him were too much and that she had overextended herself, and that she was about to walk out... just like the roof.

The damned roof.

Eddie started to move, but to his surprise, she stopped before he could begin, and this only emboldened him to act. Stepping promptly in front of her and firmly placing himself directly in her path, he gave her a long, hard look. “It's my turn to tell you this, so listen up. You don't get it. You don't get how I died, or why. I did something really dumb, that everyone told me not to... but in the end, it was the right thing. You think that, if you'd been there, you would've stopped it. You're wrong, and that might hurt you to hear it, but it's true. I died, but I died in a way that I'm proud of, and I'm done apologizing for it...” His hand traces to his chest, and squeezes at it for a moment. “...even if it tears my heart out to know it hurt you. I know you've been through hell. More than most, or any I know. I know you like to be in control because that bastard left you with none, but I'm going to tell you something you're not going to like; you don't get to control this.”

He paused a moment, a bit of the spirit fading away into his own shy nature. A small, reflective smile crossed his face, and he gave a weak shrug. “I know you think this is all your fault. I know that you've had every chance of normalcy prior to this ripped from you. I know that you think that you can't risk me, and truth is, that makes me the happiest person in the world, but I'm taking that choice out of your hands.” Feeling brave once again, his tail curled around him, as if securing a belt, and his feet planted themselves firmly in the ground. “I'm following you. Into the abyss, if necessary. And you can run and push me away if you want, that's fine. But I'm getting pretty good at finding you, and I will. I'm at your side on this, whether you like it or not, and if that scares you I'm sorry but it's not changing. I care about you too much to let you push me away, so that's it. I'm not going anywhere. And you want to know why? Because I can't risk you, either... so we're just going to have to get used to risking ourselves, and each other, together.”

She looked at the stubborn face of her one friend, and felt nothing but pride. He was so grown up these days, so big and brave and bold. Such a far cry from the insecure young man she had known so long ago. Part of her was almost wistful, missing her Eddie, but this Eddie was stronger. This Eddie could survive what the world was going to throw at him, and if he was insistent on sticking with her, it was likely going to be a lot. He likely expected her to protest, to keep pushing, it was what she was known for, after all. But she was so damn tired. Tired of the spectre of her father, tired of the guilt and pain that ate away at her, and she though that maybe, just for the moment, she could set it down.

Instead of turning away, instead of arguing, she raised her injured hand to Eddie’s face and cupped his cheek, going on tiptoe to press her forehead against his. She just stood there for a moment, breathing him in, uncaring that the world was moving around them, that they were making a scene, standing out. She willed him to understand the gratitude she was radiating, because the words caught in her throat and she couldn’t quite force them out. He deserved the words, but she wasn’t a good person, and she wasn’t used to sharing.

“I was never mad at you for dying, Eddie. You were out there, with the Titans, doing what you loved even though your powers were gone. They understood that you were one of them, finally.” She took a deep breath, pulling away and searching his face for something, she just wasn’t sure what. “I never doubted for a moment that you would risk your life to save the world, to save the team, to save anyone really. But it should have been me.” Unable to resist, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling that familiar heat radiating from him as she placed her cheek on his chest. “You had so much more hero work to do, while I was off having a temper tantrum and playing mercenary. If any of us was expendable, it was me. I should have stayed. I should have been by your side. I would have taken your place. I dream about it, at night. About how it could have been, if I hadn’t been such a coward.”

Reluctantly she released him, stepped away. She was unloading a lot of crap on him, and he didn’t deserve any of it. She was too tough for self-loathing, but this was tiptoeing tauntingly near. “You say you are willing to follow me into the abyss, but I should have done the same for you. I should have been by your side and I wasn’t. I’m done. I’ll stop pushing, as much as I can. I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, or even how long it will last, but I refuse to lose you again. If we’re going down, let’s go down together. Okay?” She wanted to look at him, but something clutched at her, something like fear that turned her face away, watching a piece of garbage drifting down the sidewalk. Her cheeks were warm, residual heat from his body clinging to her skin, nothing more.


	11. Chapter 11

He shook his head. He never understood how the people he cared about could be so smart and so stupid at the same time. Rose was opening herself up in a way his younger self never would have dreamed of, but he wasn’t entirely sure that it was for the right reasons. He could feel how tired she was, not just physically, but mentally. She’d spent her whole life running, trying to get away from everything bad, but each corner she turned had always seemed to be worse. He just wanted that to stop. He wanted to be there, around every corner she turned, making things less painful, less life or death. That’s all he had ever really wanted for her, especially after that night on the roof. He’d broken any chance of ever being more to her there, but he was content with what they had.

He was tired of seeing her on the brink of death, and that doctor had been the last straw. He didn’t trust her one bit, there was no way she had anything but nefarious intentions for Rose. Just because she wasn’t in league with Slade, his friend was willing to trust her not to screw her over, and that was unlike the mercenary. He wasn’t going to let her sell bits of her soul for the bare necessities of survival anymore. She was losing too much. Maybe it was wrong of him, to accept her capitulation while she was feeling this weak, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Usually she was so prickly, so defensive, and he loved that about her, but he also loved that there was softness inside her, that it was kept hidden away beneath all the bitterness, that she really only showed it to him.

She stepped away for a moment, not looking at him, and he pulled her back into his arms, pressing her cheek back against his chest. He didn’t want her putting distance between them again. Not when everything was so fresh and raw. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, it would have spoiled everything. He didn’t comment on how her cheek was not just warm, but damp as well. So was his. She had finally, after so much time, let him see beneath the mask she presented to the world, and the person under it was exactly who he had expected to see. He was glad. Glad he was right, glad that his friend was still underneath all that violence and pain. One hand reached out to stroke her hair in a soothing gesture, and she finally pulled away again, dashing her arm across her face. “Where do we go from here?”

He laughed, a startled sound that couldn’t help but escape. Rose could always make him laugh at the most inappropriate times. Her question echoed the ones he had in his own chest. He knew where he wanted them to go, the trick was convincing Rose it was the best option. She couldn’t be bullied, but sometimes she allowed herself to be teased into doing the right thing. He screwed his face up into a mock sternness. “First, young lady, we get you back to this safe house of yours and into some pajamas, and then right into bed. You just had surgery no more than an hour ago.” She moved as if to protest and he held up a hand, surprised when she quieted. “You are going to lay in bed while I bring you soup and vitamins and you are not going to argue with me about any of it, because you scared the shit out of me, and that’s not okay, and now you’re really quite sorry.”

A small smile crossed her face at his tone, her eyebrow arching upwards. Apparently that was how he was going to play it. Fine. She’d show him exactly how stubborn she could be. “Funny. None of that sounds like me at all.” She may have just made a fool out of herself, and she wouldn’t have done it for anyone but Eddie Bloomberg, but she wasn’t about to turn into some passive little miss either. If he thought for one second… she noticed the sparkle in his eye, and threw up her hands in defeat, laughter escaping her. Of course he was just being a pain in her ass. How could she have assumed anything else? Maybe he was right, and she really had become too hard over the last few years. “I swear, you’re so fucking deadpan I can never tell when you’re yanking on my damn leg, Red.”

The devilish young man laughed again, grinning at his best friend. “It’s only half kidding. We are going to the safe house though. You’ll argue with me for half an hour and then you will _still_ get into the bed, to make me feel better. I’ll bring you soup, and you’ll hate it but eat it to humour me while you hide the vitamins under the mattress since you have a weird aversion to pills. We’ll fight about how long recovery actually takes, while your crazy psycho serum-blood heals you up faster than I’m entirely comfortable with, but we’ll keep arguing until you can flip me over your head without your arm hurting. Does that sound more accurate to you?”

Rose offered Eddie her brightest smile, one he hadn’t seen in a long time. It felt strange on her face, as if she hadn’t used the expression in a long time. She probably hadn’t, but that was more a sign of what her life had been than anything else. She wouldn’t hold it against herself. Not today, not when she and her friend had finally made their positions so clear. She linked her good arm through one of his, patting his hand like a granny comforting some young thing. “Fine. We’ll go to the safe house and argue until I’m better, but then, hot stuff, then we’ve got some real work to do. You and me against the world, just like it was always meant to be.”

 

_Fin_


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